FIE YE FALSTAFFS!

England needs a Dr. Johnson. The doughty dogmatist who so conclusively laid the Cock Lane ghost could find in modern London hoaxes worthy of his bludgeon. In the interests of science, and of circulation, the Daily Sketch published pictures of spirit faces hovering over the Armistice Day celebration. All was deliciously serene until some clay-souled materialist noticed a remarkable likeness between the dim faces and those of Battling Siki, Jimmy Wilde, and other gentlemen of very earthly complexions. The Sketch has now denounced the photographs, but Conan Doyle and other highsouled enthusiasts have sprung to their defense.

An intellect, be it sufficiently subtle, may be able to explain logically how spirits are substantial enough to reflect light, and why the timid creatures, shrinking to invisibility before human gaze, pose so graciously for the photographer. But who will explain the face of Battling Siki among the ethereal throng? Perhaps, the spirits were merely indulging in a low order of practical joke. Such humor, however, is scarcely worthy of men who have attained a more or less fixed station in life, or out of it: and any such explanation must be regarded as a feeble excuse for the somewhat chagrined Sketch.